Fulmination: A Story in Drabbles
by Endgegner07
Summary: I thank serveral authors who have written stories in drabble form. I thought I'd try my hand at this as well. Things go terribly awry for Holmes and Watson on what should have been a routine case.
1. Evil, Terror

_This is a story told in drabble form. I currently use the prompt table from my livejournal community. I do not own anything beside the inspiration._

* * *

_Evil_

By all means the case had been a simple one. The suspect hidden in a house fit for demolition, leaving an easy trail for Holmes and Watson to follow. Lestrade and two policemen were handcuffing the culprit, hauling him out of the house, the old floorboards creaking beneath their heavy boots.

Inexplicably, he shot them a hideous smile over his shoulder when he vanished out the door.

"Well, that was a case hardly worth my attention," said Holmes.

Watson merely lifted an eyebrow and made as if to reply but a deafening explosion silenced him and the world around them.

* * *

_Terror_

Holmes was aware of rough wood beneath his cheek as well as the slicknes and sensation of blood. His head hurt, but his nose hurt most of all.

Lying face-down on the floor did not help pushed himself up on trembling arms. His sight was hazy at best, he could hear voices calling from the outside in.

There was a lingering scent of some kinds of chemicals that must have been responsible for the explosion.  
On hands and knees, he looked around the wrecked remains of the house. Holmes's blood turned to ice when he remembered Watson.


	2. Blood, Trapped

_Blood_

Wiping cautiously at the blood running from his broken nose before it got into his mouth, Holmes knew that he had been very lucky indeed. For whatever reason, the broken nose, an achy head and a slight ringing in his ears were the only injuries he had sustained.  
"Watson!" he was startled by the volume of his own voice and it's desperate sound.  
He could hear Lestrade's voice bellowing commands somewhere, but could not make out the words.  
He looked around for Watson, kneeling and shifting rubble away, sneezing because of the dust, spraying blood onto the floor.

----

_Trapped_

Holmes saw a hand.

_Watson's_ hand.

He all but dived in its direction, lifting boards off Watson that had once been a wall. The house had been old and uninhabited and made entirely of wooden planks, boards and beams. It seemed that the ceiling had come down crashing upon them.  
Dismay filled him as he finally uncovered Watson.

Breathing rapidly, sweating, blood running down the side of his face and not unconscious.

"Watson?" Holmes whispered. Watson coughed, blood dripping onto the floor, he was on his stomach, a wooden beam lying across his lower back pinning him to the floor.


	3. Lift, Touch

_Lift_

Watson had broken ribs without doubt, if he had first fallen face-down toward the floor and the beam onto his back it was almost impossible for all of his ribs to be undamaged.  
He breathed shallowly and rapidly, but there was nothing Holmes could have done to help.  
He did not dare try to lift the beam off Watson (not taking into consideration that he would very likely have been unable to move it at all) for fear of injuring him further.  
The shouting from the outside grew louder now, Lestrade and his men having finally found a way inside.

---

_Touch_

"Good Lor-," a glare from the detective cut Lestrades's words short. Holmes did not know to what extend Watson was lucid. He was not unconscious but he did not respond to him either, possibly because of the pain.

While several constables were working on lifting the beam off of Watson, tying two sturdy ropes around it and having thrown the ropes about another accessible but intact beam hanging low to achieve a levarage effect, Holmes was sitting beside his Boswell, holding a 'kerchief to his nose with one hand, the other on Watson's shoulder to remind him of his presence.


	4. Scream, Torment

_Scream_

"Steady on, lads," said Lestrade as the constables prepared themselves to lift the beam. Two other constables were standing on either side at the ends to prevent it from swinging sideways and knocking into someone.  
Holmes and Lestrade were preparing to pull Watson - cautiously of course - out of the way.  
The doctor had begun to shift restlessly, grunting in pain.  
Holmes was surprised as Watson's eyes snapped open when the beam moved an inch upward.  
"What're you doin'-" he interrupted himself with a choking gasp. Holmes expected him to scream, so intense was the pain on his face.

----

_Torment_

None of the men had ever heard such violent cursing. Holmes briefly thought about Watson's associates from the army and wondered if they were responsible for his...vocabulary.  
They pulled Watson away from the beam now hovering in midair, mindful of his bad shoulder and broken ribs.  
Holmes turned Watson carefully onto upon his back, resting his head on his knee, still gripping his shoulders.  
One of Watson's hands came up to clutch at his and Holmes leanded forwards to see his face, even if it was upside-down.  
Watson's hand tightned painfully as his tormented eyes burned a hole into Holmes's.


	5. Stab, Plead

_Stab_

"Holmes, my legs, they-" he drew in a sharp breath, clenching his eyes shut. Holmes felt himself going numb with horror. This could not be happening...  
"Can you move them?" he was afraid of the answer.  
"No..." the word was hissed through Watson's teeth. Holmes used his free hand to clutch at his head. When had the world started spinning?  
There was a sharp tug on the hand holding Watson's.  
"No, but they're...oh god...not numb, I don't think...it's as if there are glowing hot needles inside them-" Watson stopped talking and started coughing violently, one arm going around his ribs.

----

_Plead_

The doctor Lestrade had summoned promptly injected Watson with an amount of morphine that would have put out an indian elephant.  
Holmes refused to leave Watson for the ride to the nearest hospital. The doctor had assured him, after a brief but painful examination (Watson's would have undoubtly been faster, more efficient and less painful) that his nose would heal without complication as long as he was careful.  
Holmes didn't know a lot about injuries to the back or spinal cord but he pleaded with all his might that the pain meant Watson would recover. However long it took.


	6. Weary

_Weary_

The doctors were puzzled, poking and prodding Watson almost past his endurance.

Only when Holmes threatened them with his government relations would they leave him for more than four hours a time to rest.

The broken ribs were painful, but would heal as long as Watson was careful.

He still could not move his legs but he claimed to feel something.

Most often painful needlepricks that left him squirming uncomfortably, a prove of the strength of his discomfort for he never showed any weakness lightly.

"I hope it's not phantom pain," he groaned. Homes squeezed his hand, hoping as well.


	7. Truth

_Truth_

"We can not tell you if he will be able to walk again," said one of those doctors.

"The pain stems from the damaged nerves in his back, extending into his legs, but he can not move them.

"We are just beginning to understand these aspects of anatomy and a lot of it is quite frankly a mystery.

"He feels normal sensation at the uppermost parts of his tihghs, but nothing below.

"His balance is good and if need be, he will be able to use a wheelchair…yes it will be strenous for his shoulder but there is no alternative."


	8. Faint

_Faint_

"They cannot tell if it's broken, it's swollen too badly," Watson's voice sounded faint from pain and medication.  
Two ribs on his right side were broken and lying on his back was not advisable, so he had to settle onto his left side, straining his shoulder. But he could support himself.  
"But I do feel something and there might a be a chance that feeling will return completely, eventually," there was no cheerfullness in his voice.  
Mrs. Hudson was visiting for the first time. Looking at the gaunt man across the room, she wondered if both of them would recover.


	9. Cripple

_Cripple_

Watson refused Holmes's suggestion to recover at Baker Street, pointing out every single difficulty.  
The stairs would be impossible to take. Even if he took up residence in Holmes's room, how was he supposed to move around, for he had to eventually. Visits from doctors would be expensive as was hiring a nurse for long-term care.  
No matter the arguments Holmes brought forth, Watson wasn't to be swayed.  
Holmes could only imagine how devastated Watson was, fighting to regain mobility after Afghanistan and apparently being a complete invalid now.  
They compromised on a sanatorium specialised in these type of injuries.


End file.
